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'Tis then the hour for sober thought,
To leave this little world behind;
To traverse paths which Newton taught,
And rove the boundless realms of mind;
Till Pride reluctant lifts the mask,

And shows the boasting mortal blind;
Then the warm soul, intent to stray,
Would joyful shake its clogs away,
And, bursting from its bonds of clay,
Pursue its glad, progressive task.'

Like many other poets, he has forsworn the muse at the end of the book, in strains which show he is yet on good terms with her. From his valedictory address we take the following passages, and conclude with the hope that a more prosperous fortune may afford him the opportunity and disposition to improve the talent with which he is gifted.

In life's fair morn, when sunshine warm'd the scene,
And fairy hopes danced o'er the laughing green,

His infant Muse essay'd the artless strain,

On Charles's bank, or Newton's verdant plain;
Gave him her lyre, and taught his hand to play,
While flattering Echo chanted back the lay.

'Pleased, like a child, he fondly thought 'twas Fame,
Ambition kindled, and he sought the dame;
Unknowing where her lofty temple stood,
He pierced the grotto and explored the wood;
But vain the search, in meadow, vale, or hill,
The air-form'd phantom flew, but answer'd still,
Till tired Experience proved the sylvan scene
Held not the temple of ambition's queen.

With fond regret he left the calm retreat,
Where Nature's charms in sweet disorder meet,
Diversified with meadows, groves, and hills,
And Charles's thousand tributary rills-
Left rustic joys, to court the city's smile,
And woke the strain in Beauty's cause awhile-
He
sung of love-a minstrel's sweetest dream,
And sung sincerely-for he felt the theme;
His soul was pour'd in every amorous tone-
An angel heard, and answer'd with her own.

Then Fame, adieu! no more he courts your charms;
Welcome, Retirement take him to your arms;
Here, gentle Muse, he gives you back the lyre,
Whose tones could once his youthful bosom fire.
That lyre shall sleep, nor breathe a tone again,
Till scenes celestial claim the glowing strain;
Till realms eternal burst upon the view,
And animate the wondering bard anew.
Till then, farewell! He follows Fame no more;
But spurns the shrine at which he knelt before-

2.

Let Poverty prepare her bitterest draught,
And Malice barb his most inveterate shaft-
The troubled dream of life will soon be o'er;
And a bright morning dawn to fade no more.'

The Art of Domestic Happiness, and other poems. By the Recluse, author of the Independency of Mind Affirmed. Pittsburg: published by Robert Patterson, 1817.

If ever it be true that a residence among the more sublime works of nature, has a tendency to create a spiritual and poetic turn of mind, it would indubitably be the case in our own country, and especially in that part of it which appears to contain the dwelling of the Recluse. The old world offers nothing to compare with it, and other circumstances supposed to be most favourable to the exercise of the poetic talent, solitude, namely, and exemption from the cares and bustle of the world, may be enjoyed on our mountains and in our vallies in the fullest odour. In the history also, and manners of the wild race who recently occupied that section of the republic from which our author now dates, there may surely be found subjects for the display of poetic genius, little if at all inferior to those of the gypsies, the beggars, and banditti, upon the basis of which the Mighty unknown' has erected his imperishable works. Notwithstanding all these advantages, however, 'The Recluse of Locust Ridge' is as dull a matter of fact person, as either of that numerous tribe who write imitations of Scott and Byron, among the fumum opes strepitumque urbis'. He is rather an imitator of Pope indeed, than of any more modern versifier, and having it seems somewhat of a metaphysical turn, has borrowed many of the ideas as well as expressions of the Essay on Man. We are told in the preface that His mind has for some years been persuaded that a general reformation of sentiment throughout Christendom is going on;' and we are given to understand that his productions will find a place in the common bundle of those causes which are to effect the universal amelioration of the human character'. Whatever respect may be entertained for his intentions, we fear his poetry is not calculated to produce any very important improvement in the fortunes of our species. He seems rather to be troubled with some weighty ideas which he cannot conveniently bring forth. From his place of residence, and the title he has given himself, we presume that he is acquainted with the effects of a vegetable diet upon the physical system. We would strenuously urge him to pursue a similar course in his mental banquets; namely, to confine himself to things easy of digestion, and such as do not require the aid of a cathartic, in which case we shall probably not meet with such lines as the following: Thus much premised, the following hints may seem

To be conformable to Naturc's scheme.

In social intercourse the most minute
Attention is required to bring forth fruit.

High flavoured, rich agreeable to the sight!
Smooth to the touch, and sweet to the appetite!

Hence small neglects become no less offence
To common decency than common sense." p. 12.

Johnson once said of Shakspeare,

'And panting time toiled after him in vain.'

Which our author has improved into

The chief, whose language trips

The heels of praise that gasping falls

And at respectful distance bawls!!' p. 134.

We can find room for no more than the first stanza of a pathetic elegy on one Eliakim Garretson, clarum et venerabile nomen.

'And shall not I that also knew

The amiable Eliakim,

His memory with my tears bedew,

And wreathe a cypress dole for him?' p. 296.

3. The Miscellaneous Poems of The Boston Bard. Philadelphia:

1818.

Many of the effusions of the Boston Bard' (as he styles himself,) have we believe appeared in the newspapers, and met with considerable approbation. To judge from the laudatory tributes of his poetical correspondents, several of which are modestly inserted in the volume, we should suppose that a star of no ordinary brilliancy had appeared above the horizon. There is little, however, in these poems above the common run of newspaper poetry. The author displays considerable power of versification, but his ideas have no great originality or merit. The religious and national feelings which are inculcated throughout, are very creditable to him; and deserve higher praise than we fear his poetry is entitled to. The following is perhaps the best piece in the book.

'Victor, what avails the wreath

That erst entwined thy brow?
Alas! those flowers no longer breathe,
For death hath laid thee low!

And what avails the storied urn

That blazons forth thy fame?

That sculptured vase to dust shall turn

Oblivion blot thy name.

'What too avails those scars so deep,

Received in battle-fray?

"THEY'RE PROOFS OF VALOUR!"-TIME shall sweep

Thy VALOR'S PROOFS away!

And what avails the minstrel's song

That sounds thy praises forth?

The minstrel's head shall rest ere long

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Thy funeral torch already gleams-
Thy days on earth are told:

What now avails thy hoarded wealth?
Is it with thee inurned?

No-"Naked from the earth you came,
And naked have returned."

' BEAUTY, what avails the rose
That decks thy dimpled cheek?
Age on thy head shall strew his snows,
And death his vengeance wreak:
And what avails thy form so fair,
Or eyes so dazzling bright?

That form shall waste 'neath sullen care-
Those suns shall set in night.

'But, blest RELIGION! much avails
THY HOPE OF BLISS IN HEAVEN;
For though thy barque, by adverse gales,
On death's dark shore be driven,
Still thou canst smile! thy steady eye
Can pierce the cheerless gloom,
And view, through dark futurity,
The DAY SPRING OF THE TOMB.'

ART. V.-Notoria; or Miscellaneous Articles of Philosophy, Literature, &c.

TASSO.

From Hobhouse's Illustrations of 4th Canto of Childe Harold.—The author of the Jerusalem, when he was at the height of his favour at the court of Ferrara, could not redeem the covering of his body and bed, which he was obliged to leave in pledge for 13 crowns and 45 lire on accompanying the cardinal of Este to France. This circumstance appears from a testamentary document preserved in manuscript in the public library of Ferrara, which is imperfectly copied in the life of Tasso, and the following letter is extracted from the same collection of autographs as a singular exemplification of what has been before said of princely patronage.

My Magnificent Lord,-I send your lordship five shirts, all of which want mending. Give them to your relation; and let him know that I do not wish them to be mixed with the others; and that he will gratify me by coming one day with you to see me. In the mean while I wait for that answer which your lordship promised to solicit for me. Put

your friend in mind of it. I kiss your lordship's hand. Your faithful servant, TORQUATO TASSO. From S. Anna, the 4th of Jan. 1585.

If you cannot come with your relation, come alone. I want to speak to you. And get the cloth washed in which the shirts are wrapped up.

To the very Magnificent Lord, the Signor Luca Scalabrino.

ALFIERI.

The poet Alfieri, was one evening at the house of the Princess Carignani, and leaning, in one of his silent moods, against a sideboard decorated with a rich tea-service of china, by a sudden movement of his long loose tresses, threw down one of the cups. The lady of the mansion ventured to tell him that he had spoilt her set, and had better have broken them all; but the words were no sooner said, than Alfieri, without replying or changing countenance, swept off the whole service upon the floor. Ibid.

COUNT PEPOLI.

Count Alexander Pepoli, who inher

ited the wealth and the name of that powerful family, which, during the middle ages, made themselves masters of Bologna, and alarmed the princes of Italy, was the cotemporary, and, it may be said, the rival of Alfieri. He wrote tragedies, he wrote comedies: both the one and the other were applauded on the stage; both the one and the other now slumber in the libraries. He aspired to the invention of a new drama, which he thought Shaksperian, and which he called Fisedia-a compliment to our poet, and a tacit reproof to all other writers for the stage, from Æschylus downwards. His Representation of Nature pleased both the people and the actors, but never came to a second edition. Like Alfieri, he also was passionately fond of horses, and he was bolder than our poet, for he drove a Roman car, a quadriga, at full gallop over the ascents and descents of the Appenines. He built a theatre for the representation of his own tragedies; he founded the magnificent printing press at Venice, from which, under the name of the Tipografia Pepoliana, have issued many works, and particularly several editions of the Italian historians. His daily occupations were divided, with a scrupulosity which they hardly merited, between his studies, his horses, and his table. His guests consisted of men of letters, of buffoons, of people of fashion, and of parasites. His nights were devoted to the pursuits of gallantry, in which he was sufficiently successful; for he was handsome and he was rich. His amours were occasionally postponed for his billiards, at which he lost large sums of money, in the pursuit of an excellence which he would fain have attained at all games of skill. His great ambition was to be the first runner in Italy, and he died in 1796, before he was forty, of a pulmonary complaint, which he had caught in a footrace with a lacquey. He merits a place in this memoir, not for the brilliancy of his compositions, but for the shade of relief which they furnish to the similar and successful efforts of Alfieri. Ibid.

FORMER APPROACHES TO THE NORTH

POLE.

Colonel Beaumont, in his edition of the work of the Hon. Daines Barrington, upon the possibility of approaching the North Pole, after recording, at some length, the different latitudes which are

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LORD RENDLESHAM.

He is the grandson of the celebrated London banker, Thelusson, who died in 1797, and who, after having deducted an immense sum from his fortune, for the benefit of his widow and her children, disposed of the remainder, amounting to 876,000l. sterling in the public funds and in the purchase of estates, ordering that it should accumulate, and that it should be applied in the same manner, until the time that his great grandson, having arrived to the age of thirty years, should be put in possession of it. In default of this, the property goes to the state of Great Britain. Ac. cording to these arrangements, it will be the son of the present Lord Rendlesham who will be called to these immense possessions. Lady Rendlesham has been pregnant. As may be suppo

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